Pokemon Creepypastas
by HypnoLullaby
Summary: A bunch of pastas I wrote when I was in a depressing, dark mood. If you like any of them, a review or a favorite would be amazing. Thank you, guys.


Chapter 1

Raul

Right now, I bet that you're all thinking: "I bet it's either some demonic cartridge pasta" or "Let me guess, two friends or brothers who eventually separate."

Well, you're right and wrong at the same time. Let me start by introducing myself.

I never was the kind of guy that spent his time with a group of friends or socializing. I was the guy that kept to himself.

My parents divorced when I was six, and that's when my sister was born. My mother took care of my sister, and since no one else was living in our house, I had no one to play with.

I loved video games and reading, but my favorite activity was playing the pokemon games. I'd get my Pokemon Yellow cartridge in the Game Boy and no one had to worry about me for hours.

Anyway, and not wanting to bore you with my life story, I was rather lonely and couldn't call anyone a friend until a year ago.

I had just entered 10th grade and didn't really expect much out of it. The only thing that changed was the school I went to. I was still the lonely guy that would disappear in breaks and if found was often found reading or playing on his GB.

Things went normally until a month later, when I met Raul. Raul was another awkward guy, who would spend his breaks with the rest of the class, but never said a word. He didn't really catch my attention, but that changed when our Chemistry teacher gave us a project.

It was a simple project and could have been finished with each doing a half of the work and joining it together in the delivering day. But both of his parents were teachers, and took his education very seriously, so I soon found myself in his house, working on his computer.

He was rather smart and we finished the project in an hour. Bored out of our minds, we started a conversation and found out we had much in common. Our love for martial arts, anime, and mostly, pokemon.

He quickly showed me his collection of ten shinies, legendaries and a whole lot of his all time favorite pokemon that helped him through the Elite Four.

I had to go by then, but we kept talking about it and soon engaged in races.

We raced through Saphire, Ruby, Fire, Blue, even Gold and Silver, constantly battling each other to see who was the best.

Pokemon was our passion. We became best friends, no, brothers! We were inseparable.

But, as they say, nothing good lasts forever.

Things changed when we started a FireRed LeafGreen race. We decided that we had to look into every story, talk to everyone and solve every possible mistery in order to get ourselves immersed.

It was a stressful time in school, and I couldn't pay the race much attention, but Raul was obsessed. He said he had found something disturbing in the game. When I asked him about it, he told me that Gary's Raticate had died. I quickly turned him off, saying that no one died in a Pokemon game. He complained and said that he had fought Gary on S.S. Anne, and next thing he knew he was fighting Gary in the Cemetery Tower in Lavender Town, but the rival was lacking his rodent companion. Again, I turned him off, but he went back to investigating.

I thought it was temporary, but it wasn't. Raul just didn't let it drop! He spent his time going through the Pokemon Tower, interacting with every tombstone and expecting a response.

We ended up drifting apart, but we didn't have much time for that either, because one week later, I receive a call from his father. His voice was weak, and I could hear a woman, Raul's mother cry in the background.

"Son, I don't know how to say this, but you were Raul's best friend and you deserve to know. We found him on the floor yesterday, lifeless. It's hard for me to talk about this, so please, come to the funeral next monday, where I'll be more composed."

I had no words for this. Raul was my brother. I loved him like one anyway and hadn't even considered the possibility of his death. I of course decided to go to his funeral. I owed him at least that. I hadn't cried in years, but that day, I cried a lot. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore and just sobbed. The ceremony ended and he was buried. His mother kept crying and almost couldn't utter a word. I decided not to ask anything.

It was she who came in contact with me a few days later. She was a teacher at my school and came in the middle of a class, asking to talk to me. My chemistry professor gave me permission and I quickly exited the classroom.

She asked me to come by her house later for dinner. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask. I politely accepted and went back into the classroom. Of course, I couldn't focus anymore. If I could at all.

Hours later I knocked at their door, and Raul's dad came to answer. He warmly greeted me with a hug and invited me in, though a sad look remained on his face.

Normally when I dined there, Raul and I would set the table, but that day the table was already set, and the food was already there as well. His mother quickly came to greet me as well and ordered me to take my jacket off and sit by the table.

The dinner was awkward, with me and his dad trying to lighten the mood with a few small jokes, but obviously, it didn't work. When we finished, I excused myself, thanked them for the dinner and went back home to leave them to mourn.

This was a ritual that we'd practice every Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'd go to dinner there and they would happily receive me. I guess that we were both trying to do the same thing. By staying in contact with each other, we could stay in contact with Raul, as if nothing ever happened. It wasn't healthy, but who gave a damn anyway. We were trying to avoid pain, and if we had to fool ourselves to do so, that's what we would do.

Life went on, but we stayed the same. Until one day, after dinner, they decided to talk about it. They wanted to face it and see if they could get over it. They told me that they found him dead, grasping his GB as if his life depended on it. The doctors said he had a seizure attack. "Seizure attack? He spent his life on these videogames why would he get a seizure now?" was what I thought. Telling me this obviously pained them, and I yet again decided not to ask questions.

They left me in the living room for a bit and came back with a sports bag. "It's got all of his games, consoles and that kind of parafernalia in it. We figured that he'd want you to have this." His father said. I hesitatingly accepted and thanked them.

As I was about to leave, his mother stopped me and took something out of her pocket. It was Raul's gameboy with the pokemon FireRed cartridge still in it. "Sorry, almost forgot this one." She apologized. I put them in my own pocket and went home.

Months went by and I didn't touch said game boy. I used everything else, but that Game Boy and that cartridge, those were sacred to me.

But as they say: "Forbidden fruit is the sweetest." I had to do it. I had to find out just what made Raul get such a seizure that led to his death.

I started the GameBoy and everything appeared normal. His saved game looked normal to me with about fourty-five hours of playing, and I decided to play it. I appeared in the Pokemon Tower, right in the beginning.

His team was normal, though overlevelled for the place where he was at. He had three pokemon. A level 50 Blastoise, a level 50 Pidgeot and a level 50 Sandslash. (He was obsessed with simmetry as well, at least when it came to his pokemon levels.)

I started looking around, but nothing was out of place. Everything looked exactly as it looked when I played the game.

Because of that, I started examining the gameboy itself and I found a piece of paper attached to the back of it, though transparent ducktape held it in place. It said "Second Floor". Intrigued, I went back to the second floor and examined every tombstone that I could. I was getting excited, feeling like I was close to the end when I pressed "a" while pressed right against the last gravestone.

A textbox appeared. "Master? Master? Please, Master, where are you? Did Raticate do bad? Why won't you come to me, Master?" I didn't get it until I realized that it was the dead Raticate talking to Gary. I was shocked! I pressed A again and another textbox ensued.

"Wait, you're not Master! You're the one who hurt Raticate! Get away!" And then, something I never expected to happen did happen. "GET AWAY!" The gameboy's sound speakers shouted accompanied by a sped up version of Lavender Town's theme song and a quick flashing screen with a dead, decomposing Raticate on it.


End file.
